Midnight Dancing
by Spectacularly Peculiar
Summary: When she danced, all alone in the middle of the desert, she forgot everything. When he watched her dance, he forgot everything but her. GaaraxOC Rated T for possible suggestive themes.


A/N: So this is my first ever post. Yay me! Anyways, leave a review when you're done. They're a writer's bread and butter. You don't want me to starve do you?

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Ha, now you can't sue me! Lawyers back off looking disappointed.

When no one was watching, she'd dance. Out in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the night, she'd dance. Dance like she was the only person within miles. Dance like it was the last best thing in the world, like it was the last thing she'd do. She knew he always followed her. After that first time he'd caught her sneaking back to her room, covered in sweat and sand, he'd followed her. She was never alone after that. But halfway through her dance she'd always manage to forget. Forget her job, forget where she was, forget her audience. It was hard for her to remember much when dancing.

Her chakra flowed out of her in an endless wave, molding the sand around her, unconsciously making it mirror her movements. When she spun in place, the sand spun in a great circle around her. When she leapt through the air, spouts of sand followed her. When she did a back flip, a wave of sand followed her foot in its graceful arc. When she landed again, the sand rippled outward before curving up and partially forming a dome over her head. She slashed through the air with a hand and the dome fell away. The movements of her arms and hands were mirrored in waves of sand arcing through the air, slicing it like a scythe. The sand moved in a circle around her matching, mirroring, enhancing every move she made. And he watched her. Her short hair was being plastered to her forehead. Her clothes were being soaked in sweat, making sand stick to her. Her sash was coming undone from one of its knots, trailing behind her a little more. The close-fitting outfit looked beautiful on her usually hidden figure. It was so much like his own of mesh and oxblood red and black. Did she do it on purpose?

The first half of her dance was forced. She knew he was watching and tried to ignore him. The second half, after she forgot he was there, was pure feeling, pure nature, and it hypnotized him. Her movements were like the desert around her, fluid and undulating subtly, waiting to pull you in and take your life for its own. She had his life in her hands. If she ever stopped dancing his heart would stop with her.

She never stopped dancing, even when the night was over. Even after she stopped dancing, she never really stopped. The grace, the purity, the seductiveness, and the sensuality of her dance was in her walk, her talk, the way she held your gaze, and the way she stood still. Even the way she shifted from side to side when waiting for him outside his office in the morning, arms full of paperwork and wearing her too-conservative outfit, was like her dance.

She would smile. "Good morning, sir."

He would nod. "Ms. Haran."

She would frown. He would amend. "Tamara."

She would smile brighter. The world would stop turning.

She didn't stop dancing. Thank God.

He followed her again. Why? Why was he following her? At first, just to make sure she would always return safely. Then, he wanted to see her dance. Now… what? What was the reason?

"Sir?"

She had stopped dancing. He hadn't noticed. There was silence. It was filled with the heaviness of knowing that the other person knows you're there but you still don't answer for whatever reason. She spoke again anyway.

"Dance with me?"

There was the sound of wind howling far away. He came out of his hiding place.

"Why?"

"To forget our constraints, our burdens, everything we hate about our lives. I found that you can dance it all away. Even if it's just for a little while."

"Do you hate your life so much that you dance here every night?"

"Do you hate your life so much that you follow me, every night, to forget through me?"

He didn't answer. She held out a hand. The wind swirled around them, stirring his red hair and her near black and caressing both their faces.

"Dance with me?"

They danced. The world stopped turning. The sun started to rise. He walked back to the village, she danced alongside him. She never stopped dancing. Thank God. For the beautiful, the terrible, the everything in-between. Thank God for dancing to the music of the body. She was beautiful. She danced because the world was terrible. Together, they were everything in-between. He could forget with her. She kept him sane. She never stopped dancing.

Thank God.

A/N: Well, I don't think that was too bad. Time now for you to tell me what YOU think! C'mon, you know you wanna tell me. Click the little button. Feed the writer.

Till next time, _Spectacularly Peculiar_ (a.k.a. _Missy_).


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